


No-One

by Angela_Jahnel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Merle Dixon, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Beating, Biting, Blood and Gore, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, Merle Dixon - Freeform, Merle Dixon Being an Asshole, Nice Merle Dixon, Protective Merle Dixon, Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Stabbing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:37:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13847328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela_Jahnel/pseuds/Angela_Jahnel
Summary: Merle Dixon saves a woman from a slave gang. Can they fight their way back to Woodbury?





	No-One

A lone woman wanders down the middle of a road, meandering serenely through the heavily-wooded countryside. Trash, leaves, and suitcases lie strewn across the lanes, interspersed with a scattering of abandoned cars. She stops to inspect the contents of a few suitcases, but they look like they've already been ransacked. She sighs in disappointment, then glances into the cars to see if there might be a few bottles of water that were missed by the previous looters. Instead of supplies, she finds rotting corpses. A few are still mobile, but many of them have been put to rest. The woman kneels to study one of the still bodies, lying half out of an open car door. The head has been brutally caved in, possibly by a club of some sort. Her brain screams a warning at her, telling her she needs to be careful. The walking dead are everywhere these days. Nowhere is safe. Living people are often worse than the dead. This new world is full of crazy people who love to rape and torture and kill for fun.  
She shakes her head to dispell the negative thoughts and tries to focus on the here and now. She keeps walking, looking for food and water, humming lightly to herself to drown out the warning voices in her head. Being in a constant state of alertness has begun to wear on her nerves. She hardly sleeps anymore and it's beginning to affect her judgement. 

"Need to think about what to do for Winter soon.", she mutters to herself, pulling her shawl more snugly around her shoulders. "You told me to keep looking for Woodbury, to go east in case we got separated. I've done my best, but I think we're lost."  
She rounds a corner of the road, lost in thought and distracted by the lovely red and gold leaves fluttering in the cool breeze. 

"Well, what do we have here?", a deep voice drawls.

She stops and cocks her head to the side, observing the four men in the middle of the road. She is disgusted with herself for her inattention, but she is also intrigued. She studies the man in the center of the group and decides he must be the leader. The other men are watching him, waiting for orders. The leader is tall, dark haired, with a greying scruff of beard. He's a handsome fellow, and looks good in his black leather jacket and red scarf. He has a baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire, resting casually over one shoulder. 

"What's a pretty lady like you doing out here all alone?", he asks, flashing her a disarming grin.

For a moment, she looks lost, confused. The woman glances around at the trees, the cars, the road, seeming to just now notice where she is and that she is actually alone. 

"I... I lost my man.", she stammers.

"Awww, well isn't that a cryin' shame? Oh, pardon my manners, I'm Negan and this here's Lucille.", he says as he pats the baseball bat fondly. " What's your name, little lady?", he asks, while signaling his men to fan out.

"I don't know my name any more. I hit my head. I forgot. My man called me No-One.", she grins at the memory, her eyes unfocused, lost in her own world.

"Well Miss No-One, you can come with us. We've got a nice, safe place nearby. Fetch her, boys.", Negan commands.

Her head jerks up as the three men advance towards her. Her eyes widen in fear and she starts to panic. She pulls a long knife from her belt and waves it as threateningly as possible. The men surround her, grinning like wolves staring down a frightened rabbit. The man in front of her makes a mock lunge toward her, but it's the man to her right that actually attacks. He grabs her right wrist, trying to wrestle the knife from her. She unexpectedly moves toward him and stomps down onto his instep as hard as possible. He howls in pain and releases her wrist, hopping around on one foot. She immediately slashes toward the man in front of her, plunging the long blade into the side of his ribs. She jerks the knife out in time to block the knife of the man to her left. Her left foot sweeps toward his knee, causing him to stumble. She punches him in the face with her left hand, while blocking his knife with her right. When his head jerks back toward her, she shoves her knife up under his chin. He shudders, then sinks to the ground. The last man limps forward, much more cautiously than before. He circles her, knife drawn.

"We weren't gonna hurt you, crazy bitch, but now you're gonna die!", he spits at her. 

No-One crouches, ready to fight. With a wet, crunching sound, his head caves in and he slowly topples sideways, revealing Negan behind him.

"I told you to fetch her, not kill her!", he shouts at the corpse at his feet. He grins sheepishly at No-One and states, "It's so hard to get good help these days.". 

Negan looks down at the man who was stabbed in the chest. Frothy blood is bubbling out of his mouth every time he coughs. 

"Dammit, you're no good to me with a punctured lung. Worthless! The whole lot of you!", Negan shouts reproachfully at the man. "Oh well, Lucille was thirsty anyway. Look at you, you're such a dirty girl!", he croons at the bat. "Are you still thirsty, honey?", Negan slams the bat into the mans head. The sound of bone crunching against the pavement echoes through the forest. He stands up, breathing heavily, eyes alight, and grins at No-One. He lovingly caresses Lucille, then gently rests her against the side of a nearby car.

"Oh, that's a hell of a rush!", Negan exclaims. He suddenly remembers that the woman is still standing in front of him. He turns to her, grinning from ear to ear, and exclaims, "Holy shit! You were amazing! You kicked the crap out of my men!". 

No-One cocks an eyebrow at this lunatic, trying to figure him out. 'Be careful! He's dangerous!', her inner voice screams. She lunges at him, her knife arcing toward his neck. Negan snaps his hand out, faster than a snake, and catches her wrist. The blade is only inches from his neck, but he's stronger than she is. She tries to punch with her left hand, but he expertly catches that wrist as well. They are locked together, No-One struggling in his grasp, still trying to kill this maniac, and Negan just keeps grinning at her. 

"I gotta tell you, that was hot as hell. I've totally got wood right now!", he crows delightedly.

"You're crazy.", she whispers while staring at him in disbelief. She looks into his eyes, trying to find some semblance of sanity there. A grin slowly spreads across her face and she purrs, "I like that in a man."

Negan responds to her sudden shift of mood. He gives her his best smouldering look and murmers, "You do, huh?", as he moves his lips toward hers. He kisses her passionately, their hands still locked together in a death struggle, her blade nearly at his throat. They are the eye of the storm, surrounded by the bodies of the slain, their fresh blood steaming in the cool Autumn air. Her hands begin to shake, then relax, and she drops her knife to the pavement. Negan slowly releases her hands and she digs her fingers into the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him closer. He trails his fingers sensuously down her bare left arm, past an old, healed bite wound. His hand slides down her waist, the curve of her hip. He pulls her closer and she eagerly presses her body against him. Her entire world is the wonderous feeling of his body, his mouth pressing aggressively against hers, the roughness of his beard. She trails her fingers down his stubbled cheek and her eyes begin to overflow. 

 

Their lips part and she gazes lovingly into eyes of blued-steel, then runs her fingers over the strong jawline of Merle Dixon. 

A house. She remembers she and Merle stayed the night in a farmhouse after getting separated from the group from Woodbury. Her memories rewind further. Before that, she had been chained together with the others, just another slave, forced to march to the slaver camp. Her group had been caught off guard and quickly overwhelmed . The slavers killed most of the men, but kept all the women alive. They had stopped for the night and the slaves were staked down to a picket so they couldn't escape. A man named Jacob was the leader of the group. The sadistic son of a bitch loved to walk up and down the picket line every night, telling horror stories of what would happen to them once they reached the main camp. 

"You're headed to a life of hard labor, boys and girls! You will cut wood, haul rock, dig ditches, empty shit buckets. You will do whatever we tell you to do. If you disobey, we will start by giving you a hearty beating! If you continue to disobey, we will cut off your ears, your fingers, your toes. You don't need all of them anyway.", Jacob grinned at the terrified people sitting in the dirt. "The more attractive women will be put to work as household slaves and whores. This is a cushy job compared to working heavy labor. Cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, and sleeping with your masters is a whole lot better than digging ditches. Keep your mouths shut and your legs open, and there won't be any problems. Understand?", he asked the group. Most of the slaves had already been beaten several times and were terrified of the slavers. One woman glared at the man defiantly, which made him want to break her even more. Jacob stopped pacing the line of slaves and paused in front of the woman. 

"Still got that attitude problem, little Miss? Looks like you might need another round of 'encouragement'. When we get back home, I'm gonna ask the boss if I can have you. I'll break you eventually, you little bitch, then I'm gonna fuck you 'til you bleed.", he sneered down at her while rubbing his crotch. The woman spit at him, which earned her a backhanded blow that knocked her flat on her back. 

In the surrounding woods, a group of scavengers from Woodbury were observing the scene. They were spread out and well hidden. Merle Dixon, who was in charge of the group, signaled to his two lieutenants to move closer to him.  
"Damn, slavers in our own back yard.", Merle said with contempt, "Governor's gonna have to stomp these bastards hard or they'll end up bein' a bigger problem.". Merle's face hardened, all business. 

"We attack on my signal. Try not to hit the slaves, especially the one in the front. I want her, she's got fire in her eyes.", Merle grinned.

Her memories of the fight were jumbled, disjointed. She remembered the gunshots, the screams, the smell of blood, people running everywhere, the chained slaves trying to crawl over each other in their panic, dragging each other along. Unfamiliar men stood guard over the slaves while firing at the slavers. Someone finally found a key and started unlocking the chains. She remembered a grizzled man with a metal contraption on one arm, barking orders in a gravelly voice. He roughly pulled her to her feet once her chains were off. 

"How ya' like that? Merle Dixon to the rescue!", he crowed amidst the chaos. "Maybe you can show a little appreciation later.", he leered at her, licking his lips. "What's yer name, girl?", he asked.

"I don't know.", she replied. "Head injury. Can't remember. I guess I'm no one."

"Ok, well I guess you can be No-One until we come up with a better name.", he said. "Let's get you in the truck and get you back home. I bet you'll clean up real good.", he grinned wolfishly.

"So, you saved me from a rapist, just so you could rape me?", she demanded, her voice dripping with disgust.

"Hell no! I ain't never raped a woman. I've always relied on my charm and good looks.", he rasped, with a smug grin. 

She didn't trust this man, but she didn't have a lot of options. Her eyes frantically darted around, trying to find an escape route, when she noticed the herd of Walkers cresting a nearby hill. Merle had his back to the unknown danger, but he saw her eyes widen in fear. He reacted instantly, whipping around, assessing the size of the herd, and shouting orders to his men. 

"Get to the trucks! Go! Go!", he screamed above the chaos. 

One man was still trying to unlock the last couple of slaves, fumbling with the keys while glancing nervously at the approaching herd. Merle stormed over to him and knocked him to the ground.

"Leave 'em! Get your ass in the truck, now!", Merle shouted while he fired at the closest Walkers. 

The lackey scrambled to his feet and ran for a truck as the closest Walkers fell upon the chained slaves. No-One was frozen in fear watching the Walkers tear into the flesh of the slaves. She didn’t really know any of them, but they had been her companions for the past week. She had been as helpless as them just a few minutes before.

Tires screeched as the Woodbury vehicles took off for safety. Merle grabbed No-One by her arm and pulled her toward the last vehicle. The driver frantically waved for Merle to hurry. A group of Walkers broke off from the main herd and headed toward the vehicle, cutting off Merle and No-One's escape. 

"Just go!" Merle shouted, "We'll find our own way back to Woodbury!"

Merle stabbed a nearby Walker with the bayonette attached to his missing hand, grabbed No-One and dragged her behind a building. 

 

Her memories were chaotic. How long had they traveled together? Days? Weeks? Months? There always seemed to be a herd in the way, so they kept wandering farther and farther from Woodbury in order to skirt around the herds. They talked a bit, about life before the Walkers, about how Merle lost his hand, but mostly about Merle's brother, Daryl. He'd been looking for his brother for a while and was disappointed when No-One said she hadn't seen him. Merle became increasingly frustrated, taking out his anger on the woman. She bore his temper tantrums in silence. 

They scavenged food and water from houses and from the surrounding woods. No-One began to regain some strength and finally started sniping back at Merle when he lost his temper. They had a pattern of getting along for a while, then being at each other's throats, then walking in broody silence. They finally came across an old farmhouse with a creek running through the property. The house was empty of Walkers and had a small stash of canned goods, so they decided to stay for a few days and rest up. They both decided to use the nearby creek to wash their clothes and get a much-needed bath.

"Damn! I smell like something outta the bottom of a hog trough.", Merle exclaimed, sniffing his armpits.

She laughed at his antics. "You want to go first then?", she asked.

"Ladies first.", Merle said, giving a mock bow. "I'll keep watch for Walkers. I ain't gonna promise not to look atcha' though.", he grinned at her.

True to his word, Merle spent most of his time watching No-One bathe and planning out how to charm his way into her pants later. When she was finished, she draped her freshly washed clothes over her arm and walked toward Merle, completely naked.

"Damn, girl, you look good.", he rasped while raking his eyes over her body.

"You like what you see?", she asked coyly, snuggling up under his arm.

"Hell, yeah!", he replied, voice suddenly husky. 

"Well, then get your butt in that creek because you smell like a hog trough!", she laughed, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

No-One put on a dress she found in the farmhouse, and hung her clothes up to dry. Merle gave her his spare pistol so she could keep watch while he bathed. Luckily, the area seemed to be relatively free of Walkers, so she didn't have to worry much about keeping watch and, instead, could enjoy the view. She watched him bathe, fascinated by the play of muscles across his back, wondering where each scar came from. So many mysteries. 

"Don't forget to wash your stump, otherwise you're gonna get some kind of jungle rot.", she teased.

Merle frowned and she thought she'd gone too far, but slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Good point. I don't wanna have to chop off any more than I already have.", he replied.

 

Her memories shift to the upstairs bedroom, later in the day. Merle had pushed her up against the wall, his kisses hard, aggressive, insistant. Her fingers fumbled over his belt buckle, frantically trying to unbuckle the damn thing. Merle swept his arm across a nearby desk, knocking everything to the floor. He turned her around, bent her over the desk, and ran his hand up her thigh, pulling her skirt up as he went. He bent over her, his chest pressed against her back. He raked his teeth lightly across her shoulder, then bit down, just enough to get her attention. She moaned and pushed her hips back against him. 

A surge of pleasure rushes through her at the memory. So many, yet so few, nights spent together. Then she remembers getting sick, making the run into the small town to look for medicine. They worked well as a team, eliminating the Biters, then ransacking the little drug store. Merle looked for anti-nausea medicine while she decided to stock up on tampons. She stopped suddenly, counting up the days on her fingers. How many days? Too many! No, it must just be stress. Everything is going to be ok. I just miscounted, that's all. With a shaking hand, she picked up a pregnancy test, praying she was wrong.

She remembers the two of them arguing over the positive pregnancy test, trying to figure out what to do. 

"This ain't no world to raise a kid in, dammit!", Merle shouted.

"You said Woodbury was safe. If we can make it back, we'll be fine. The baby will be fine.", she tried to convince him.

"If we can make it back!", he barked at her, "We ain't had much luck so far!".

 

Travelling again. Walking in silence. No-One tried to get through Merle's stormy mood and force him to talk to her.

"What do you want to name the baby?", she asked softly.

"Hell, I don't know!", Merle replied irritably.

"You don't like babies much, do you?", she asked.

"All they do is cry and piss and shit!", he exclaimed, then his tone softened slightly, "Besides, I ain’t cut out for this daddy crap. I'd probably just screw it up anyway.".

They walked in silence a bit longer, lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm thinking Rose if it's a girl. It's a pretty name, but roses also have thorns.", she mused.

"Hmm..that ain't so bad.", Merle grunted.

"If it's a boy, do you want to name him Merle?", she asked.

"Hell no!", he laughed, "One 'a me is bad enough!".

 

Pain. Blood. 

She never saw the Walker before it was on top of her, its teeth ripping into her left arm. She screamed and Merle was there, skewering the rotting corpse through the head. Too late though. Too late. She remembers the panicked look in his eyes, the helplessness. He knew the bite was too far up her arm. Amputation would do no good. She doesn't remember how they got to the old Victorian farmhouse. They went all the way up to the attic, just to be safe. It was a lovely old house, with actual wood floors in the attic and large dormer windows. Merle helped her over to a window and she gratefully slid to the floor, exhausted. No-One examined the bloody bandage on her arm, then looked out the window at the picturesque countryside. 

"This is nice. I can handle dying here.", she whispered.

Merle looked frustrated and angry at the entire world. He slammed his fist into a wall, not knowing what else to do. 

"Just when life looks like it ain't such a shithole, it up and kicks ya' in the teeth!", he spit out through gritted teeth. 

Merle sighed in exasperation and sat down next to No-One. She moved closer to him and winced slightly.

"How bad is it? Do you feel like you're turning yet?", he asked.

"No, it just feels like I've been chewed on by an angry guard dog.", she chuckled. Her face sobered and she whispered, "I'm sorry I got myself bitten. I don't know what happened."

"It ain't yer fault, darlin'. Those damn things are everywhere. I shoulda' been watching better too.", Merle replied softly.

He slowly drew his gun, a pained expression on his face. 

"Do you want me to do it?", he asked, "Quick and painless."

"No. The noise would attract Walkers. I don't want you to have a hard time getting out of here. Besides, you might need that bullet later.", she responded, a gentle smile on her lips. "For some reason, I'm actually ok with this. I'm not afraid. I don't know why. I just want to sit here a while and enjoy the view.", she said, turning her head to gaze out the window.

Merle reached over and felt her forehead, noticing the sweat starting to bead up on her brow.

"The fever's getting worse. It could take you a long time to die from this. You sure you don't want that bullet?", he asked, as he moved to open the window a bit. Fresh air blew across her skin and she sighed.

"Go on, before the Walkers sniff us out. It's better if you don't stay for this.", she said, placing her hand gently on his arm. 

Merle stood up and prepared to go. He picked up a backpack that contained their only food and water, then set it down next to her. He turned to walk away.

"No. You need the food more than me.", she said, shoving the backpack toward him. "You need to stay strong and kill as many of those damn Walkers as you can. Do it for me. Do it for us.", she whispered, her hand resting on her belly.

"Dammit, woman! Quit being so stubborn!", he bellowed, bending down over her, "It could take you days to die."

She shook her head, reached up to touch his face, gazed into his eyes a moment, then turned back to the window.

Without a word, Merle stood up, angrily snatched up the backpack, and walked away. After a few strides, he stopped and set the backpack down by the chimney, then climbed down the narrow stairs. 

No-One watched Merle walk away through the field, then turned her eyes toward the clouds building in the distance. She watched brightly-colored birds flitting through the trees, and smiled at their antics. As darkness fell, the fever worsened. She lay on the floor, thrashing and muttering in a fitful sleep. The storm rolled closer. Distant flashes of lightening illuminated the sky, followed by low, growling thunder. No-One writhed and gasped, fighting for each ragged breath. Eventually, she lay still, a long sigh escaping her lips. 

 

A flash of lightening illuminated her body on the floor, near the open window. An ear-splitting crash of thunder quickly followed, jolting the body into movement. She moaned, crawled to her hands and knees, then struggled to her feet. Lightening flashed again and she winced at the brightness, temporarily blinded. The ensuing boom of thunder made her jump in surprise. 

"Wha' th’ hell?", she muttered through dry lips.

She looked around, trying to get her bearings. In the lightening flashes, she saw the backpack sitting by the chimney. She stumbled toward it, ravenously hungry and throat dry as dust. She gulped down some water, murmured "Thank you, Merle.", and dug into the food, scarcely tasting it at all.

"Looks like you and me got a second chance, kid.", she sighed in contentment and rubbed her belly. "I hope your daddy is ok out there.", she said. No-One thought about the rough-hewn man with the tempestuous nature. He was unpredictable and definitely no angel, but she had learned to love him anyway. She missed his smile. She missed his gunmetal-blue eyes, that could be so warm one moment, and so cold the next. She touched her lips, already longing for his kisses.

 

Their lips part and she gazes up into an unfamiliar pair of brown eyes. Her own eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh, I'm definitely keeping you. You're a damn fine kisser. Sounds like you need a new man anyway.", Negan grins.

SHUNK! 

"Nobody can replace my man.", she hisses as she jerks the small punch dagger out of Negan's neck. 

No-One quickly sidesteps to avoid the spray of blood, then wipes off the blade on Negan's clothing. Negan clutches at his neck, trying to use his scarf to staunch the flow of blood. He staggers, slowly drops to his knees, then slides down to the pavement. Negan lays there in a spreading pool of blood, eyes staring into the sky, his breath coming in ragged gasps. No-One bends down to retrieve her long knife and sheathes it, not even glancing at the man dying at her feet. 

The woman throws back her head and howls, the mournful cry echoing through the forest. A few scattered Walkers jerk their heads up at the sound, then begin to shuffle toward a hopefully easy meal. No-One spots Lucille propped against the side of a car and picks up the baseball bat. She gives the it a few experimental swings, then starts walking down the road. 

Shadowy shapes disengage from the woods and move toward her. 

"I had a good headshot on him. All you had to do was give the signal. I could have taken him!", a teenage boy fusses at her while slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

"I know you could, Josh, but the noise would have attracted too many Walkers. Besides, I had things under control.", she says with a smile.

"Under control, huh?", a stern, older woman chides her, "Didn't look that way to me. Looked more like you really need to get laid.", the woman adds with a wink. 

"Here, I got you a present.", No-One says as she hands Lucille to the young man. He seems delighted with his new toy and gives it a few swings.

No-One turns to a younger woman carrying a baby, smiles and reaches for the child. 

"He didn't make a sound the entire time, ma'am. He seems to know when it's not safe to make noise.", the young woman says with awe in her voice. 

"That's because he's a born survivor, just like his daddy.", No-One beams with pride, "You're gonna kill lots of Walkers when you grow up, aren't you, Little Daryl?".

The group of survivors wander down the road, toward an uncertain future.

**Author's Note:**

> This story most likely will not fit perfectly into the time frame of The Walking Dead tv series. I did my best to fit the backstory somewhere between Merle being saved by the Governor and the eventual fall of Woodbury. I tagged it as an alt-universe Walking Dead to cover my butt as far as the discrepancies. ;) The time frame for the part of the story with Negan is open to interpretation. Also, Negan may not be dead and he could easily be rescued. Hopefully, this story hasn't enraged too many die-hard fans of the series. I wanted a Merle backstory with a few surprises, which I think I delivered with an unexpected death(?) of a main villain, a new character who is immune to the infection, and a child that may hold the key to saving the world. I also love the delicious irony of Merle Dixon, who many characters were horrified by or looked down on, being the father of the child who may actually save mankind.  
> The character of No-One was intentionally left as a blank slate. No name, no height, no body shape, no hair or skin or eye color. I want the reader to imagine her however they want, to personalize her in their own way.


End file.
